


Santa and Krampus' Little Helpers

by HydraNoMago



Series: Santa and Krampus AU [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Magic, Episode Related, Fluff and Humor, Friendship is Magic, Humor, Idiots in Love, Immortals, Krampus - Freeform, M/M, Made For Each Other, Too Many Spirits, santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27950213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HydraNoMago/pseuds/HydraNoMago
Summary: “You know, no matter how many times I see it, it’s really just fucking creepy.”Shane glared at Ryan but stitched his lips firmly shut, not wanting to break his concentration.“Seeing a six foot four Krampus hunched over and wriggling his fingers a few inches away from a child’s face is very concerning.”Santa and Krampus AU — where Santa and Krampus both have aids, so why not throw in the Ghoul Boys’ costumes from Too Many Spirits into the mix.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: Santa and Krampus AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050128
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80





	Santa and Krampus' Little Helpers

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Early Christmas everyone! 
> 
> Inspired by the latest episode of Too Many Spirits by the Watcher team and also this post: https://skepticbeliever-bookclub.tumblr.com/post/636867223427989504/there-has-to-be-fics-about-shane-in-that-krampus
> 
> Revel in the Christmas spirit y’all :3

**_"I don't want a lot for Christmas..."_ **

* * *

Ryan tapped his foot impatiently, glaring at the green glow of digital numbers on his watch with increasing ire. It was late. He was late because a certain _someone_ couldn’t bother to show up on time, again. He checked his watch, felt increasing anger and anxiety that a minute had passed but there was still no sign of his partner. There was a hot itch at the back of his neck, and the temptation to just jump in his sleigh and do everything himself was pressing down on him. He could find coal somewhere, no problem. Some shops must still be open on Christmas Eve… right?

He had a freshly polished boot on the foothold of the sleigh already when a gnarled hand clamped down hard and sudden on his shoulder (Ryan will never admit that the shriek he emitted was unholy and sharp enough to startle the birds from the trees). “Shane, you fucking piece of shit!”

The accused was wheezing uncontrollably, bent at the waist and failing to catch his breath. “Your face,” he wheezed, a pointed nail directed towards Ryan, sharp and black in the moonlight. “You looked like an idiot!”

“Oh fuck you,” Ryan growled, shoving at the other. Shane stumbled back a little, but didn’t fall with his arse to the ground, catching his balance easily with the presence of his tail. “And what time do you call this?”

Shane gathered himself and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that late.”

“If HQ drags us in again,” Ryan seethed darkly, “you’re answering for this.”

“Yikes, scary Bergara! Aren’t you supposed to be the jolly and cuddly one?”

“Cuddly?”

Wordlessly, Shane tapped two fingers lightly on the belly pouch that Ryan was sporting, eyebrows raised high and a glint of mischief shining in his almost entirely black eyes.

“It’s the requirement!” Ryan (almost) shrieked, batting away the other’s hand. Or claw. Or whatever it was that those Krampus aids called it. “Don’t you dare shrug at me,” he reprimanded at Shane’s mock shrug, “you know as well as I do that we don’t get to choose what we look like on this day.”

“Fair enough,” Shane agreed breezily, swinging his hooves over and into the compact sleigh. “I’m just saying, there’s a reason why children tend to hug Santa and not Krampus.”

“I don’t get why we have to be entirely accurate,” Ryan grumbled as he plodded into the sleigh, elbowing Shane out of the driver’s seat, and ignoring the other’s plaintive whine of ‘ _Let me drive just this once!_ ’ Ryan sniffled against the dry, cold air. “It’d be easier to deliver presents without the added problem of fitting through the goddamned door with this stupid fucking fat suit.”

“At least they got rid of the reindeer,” Shane said as he rapped his knuckles on the hood of the sleigh, which admittedly looked more like a very futuristic and compact jet painted hastily in a garish red.

Ryan groaned tiredly at the traumatic flashbacks. “Oh those things were the worst.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Feeding them was utter hell. _Organic_ grass. _Fresh_ herbs. _Crunchy_ shoots. Making a pit stop _every half an hour_ so they could pee at the side of the road,” Ryan checked the items off irately on his fingers as Shane sympathised next to him. “Thank god they switched to this sleek baby,” Ryan patted the hood lovingly.

Shane glanced at the seat behind them to avoid Ryan's blatant caressing of a piece of transportation. “I swear, the sacks get smaller every year. Are we doing less trips now?”

“More,” Ryan pulled up a list on his assigned tablet, scrolling rapidly at all the names and addresses listed. Shane let out a soft ‘ _ugh_ ’. “New tech,” Ryan nodded to the small sack behind them, only as large as an average tote bag and the colour of one. “Bigger on the inside.”

“Huh. About time they gave you Santas an upgrade.”

“I hate bureaucracy.”

“Can’t escape it, baby!”

Ryan punched in the area code of the first addresses they needed to make deliveries to, already dreading the work ahead of them but happy that modern technology was finally being accepted into the stuffy old world of magic. “Hold on tight,” he warned Shane, and the other promptly gripped the handlebars of the sleigh tightly as the machine pitched forwards. The sleigh gained speed as it sloped down the gentle hill and lifted off right where the ground ended, shooting them into the light-polluted night sky.

Shane whooped while Ryan tried in vain not to let the grin he was sporting show. This was one of the best parts of the job; nothing quite beat the felling of soaring across the sky high above the heads of everyone else, watching the glaring lights become smaller and smaller until they were like stars in a dark ocean. Nothing compared, except actually giving the gifts to children, anticipating their joyous laughter and teary gratitude; the magic of a Christmas morning.

Ryan felt a hand at his elbow, steady but unobtrusive; familiar. He turned his head as much as his anxiety of piloting the sleigh would allow, and was graced with the sight of Shane’s uncharacteristic soft yet excited smile. “Ready to go deliver some presents?”

“Only if you’re ready to scare some of the children,” he shot back, relishing in the genuine laugh that he could pull from Shane.

The night was long; they had presents to distribute, bad behaviour to correct. Not for the first time, Ryan was indescribably glad that Shane of all people was his partner, and not someone completely insufferable. He couldn’t imagine anyone else in the passenger seat next to him for the last century or so.

They sailed through the scudded clouds in companionable silence, Shane occasionally pointing out an interestingly arranged light display or scoffing at the environmental damage humans were causing. The small bells at the back of the sleigh jingled in a tune only they knew.

“Didn’t one of the reindeer try to mate with you once?”

“Well, fuck you too, Bergara.”

Ryan didn’t try to hide the tangible joy in his bubbling laughter this time.

* * *

“You know, no matter how many times I see it, it’s really just fucking creepy.”

Shane glared at Ryan but stitched his lips firmly shut, not wanting to break his concentration.

“Seeing a six foot four Krampus hunched over and wriggling his fingers a few inches away from a child’s face is very concerning,” Ryan whispered with a scrunched face to hide his mirth at how ridiculous Shane looked as he cast his magic. “I feel like I should call the police. Report a pedophile sighting.”

Freeing one hand momentarily, Shane shot Ryan the middle finger, causing the other to wheeze as quietly as he could in the corner of the child’s room next to the assortment of teddy bears. The child in question began to whine in her sleep, hands coming up to her head, defending herself against the monster in her dream.

It hurt Shane more than he cared to admit whenever he saw the distress he was causing these children. Sure they were ‘ **NAUGHTY** ’ as their files declared, but it’s not like they committed crimes. They did what every child does; a little cheekiness never killed anyone. He had to remind himself sternly that this was his job, this was his _life_ ; but he didn’t have to like it.

(Frankly, the only part of this job that he liked was Ryan, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.)

To make up for it, he insisted on making the dream as unrealistic as possible, throwing in cartoon gingerbread men and flying hotdogs, hoping that the child would realise that it wasn’t real, there was nothing to fear, that _they’re okay_. As he ceased his magic, a warm hand curled gently on his upper arm, and he was met with a gaze as comforting as two pools of hot chocolate which he wanted to drown in.

“You okay big guy?”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and the fluttering in his supposedly cold chest. “Yeah,” he rasped, hooves lightly scuffing against the pink rug.

Ryan could see the shutters closing on Shane’s face. It was the way he held himself, straighter, coiled, tensed for a fight. A crook in his jaw. The bleeding of light from his eyes which made him seem more like the original version of Krampus which every Krampus aid strived to be. “Hey,” he coaxed Shane lightly, tugging at his arm. “Come here.”

Ignoring the other’s questioning glance and sharp ‘ _Shh!_ ’ at the thudding of his boots, he dragged Shane to the living room, careful to close the door as soundlessly as possible behind them. They practically crawled down the stairs as Ryan’s boot falls were loud enough to rival a taiko troupe and Shane’s horns kept hitting the low slope of the ceiling.

The Christmas tree was decked out in a hodgepodge of colours, all bright and shiny. The fairy lights blinked with different colours every ten seconds or so, casting the living room in the shades of a particularly gaudy rainbow.

Ryan stopped them right before it, and dug into the sack he was carrying, looking for the presents. “I wish they’d come up with a tracking device or something,” he grumbled lowly as he had to stuff his whole head in the sack and activate the flashlight on his phone to find the gift. “Here, hold this.” As Shane held the sack firmly in both hands, Ryan hefted his whole lower body into the sack, cursing softly as he rummaged around for the right present. He emerged minutes later with a triumphant ‘ _Aha! Gotcha you slippery son of a bitch!_ ’ and a head of messy hair. Shane rolled his eyes a bit too endearingly, and alerted Ryan to his missing hat; to which Ryan cursed a blue streak under his breath and dived into the sack again.

“Fucking finally,” Shane tossed the sack back to Ryan who had his Santa hat back on. “Why is the Santa department so bad at making things work?”

Ryan clicked his tongue, “Why has the Krampus department not changed their tactics for over 1000 years?” He held out the present to Shane, and nodded to the tree expectantly.

“Ryan,” Shane said tiredly, an undercurrent of fear betrayed in his shaking voice, “I can’t.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“Because!” He swept his hands up and down himself, pulling at his horns.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Just do it.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed through that haze of milk and cookies Ryan, but I’m not Santa Claus!” Shane hissed. “I’m literally his opposite; I’m Krampus!”

“You’re a drama queen, that’s what you are!” Ryan retorted in an equally whispered hiss, as Shane feigned hurt at the statement. “Just put the present under the tree already! We’ve barely done half the list, and you showed up late!” He forced the present into Shane’s unsteady hands and pushed him towards the blinking tree.

“Ryan,” Shane began pleadingly, but was cut off.

“You love the kids, don’t you?”

Shane looked down at the present in his hands with a slight blush dusting high above his cheeks, his hooves scuffing the floor again. Ryan would take that as an admission. He gave Shane another gentle nudge, and this time Shane dropped to his knees to place the present beneath the tree. Ryan’s own heart ached slightly at the sight of Shane placing the gift down so reverently, and he cleared his throat to stop the hot tears he knew were gathering. He counted to ten in his head for Shane to bask in the glow of what he was doing, before he started pulling him up.

“Come on,” he said softly, “there are more presents to deliver.”

* * *

So who would actually know if Ryan had begun to let Shane place some presents under the tree, and most importantly, did it matter if they did? Even if he was fired, stripped of his powers, his immortality, his annual service which he loved; he knew that it was all worth it for the look of disbelief coupled with a childish glee on Shane’s face.

“We’re done!” Ryan crowed as he parked the sleigh back at their starting point earlier this evening, swinging the empty sack in the air and starting a dance number.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Shane laughed as he ducked to avoid the swinging sack.

“I’m dancing, you don’t like my dancing?”

Another huff of laughter. “It’s not great.”

But Ryan couldn’t care less, it was always a high when he finished his job for the night. Presents delivered, happy children tomorrow, and the hope that ‘ **NAUGHTY** ' children would be listed as ‘ **NICE** ’ next year. When he sat back down, finally exhausting all the pent-up stress over the past few months, the great big smile on Shane’s face made him want to do it all over again.

“You just did Cali, not the whole world, so calm down there, little guy.”

“Shut up, Shane,” he retorted with no bite, the warmth in his chest too much, overflowing.

They sat in silence for a few moments, looking out at the city lights and the never empty streets. It was like a no-where place, familiar yet unsettling; and Ryan guessed that was what they were too. No-where people. People (if you can even call them that) of myth and mystery. Bedtime stories never fully forgotten.

Alone and lonely.

He stopped breathing at some point and the first intake of air was less invigorating than he thought it would be. “Where are you going?” Though he heard it, he tried to avoid how strangled his voice sounded as Shane began to clamber out of the sleigh.

“Job’s done buddy, I’m going home.” Shane cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms above him, easing a crick in his back. “We had a good run tonight,” he smiled sincerely, fingers tangling around a horn. “Thank you.”

He was about to set his hoof down onto the ground, when he felt Ryan tugging him by the hand.“Wait,” the other ground out, a fevered look in his eyes, “Just… wait.”

“Ryan?” Shane asked with concern as he folded himself back down into the sleigh. They really needed to make one with more leg space. “What’s wrong?”

Ryan chewed on the inside of his cheek, resolutely looking at anywhere but Shane; tuning out the rapid beating of his own heart and the threatening ice in his veins. Moments of silence passed before he managed a soft and hesitant “Stay? At least for a while.”

He felt the huff of breath from Shane’s kind laugh before he heard it, and felt him settling down beside him. “Sure,” he replied, with just a hint of a hitch which betrayed his feelings. “Anything you want, Ryan.”

So there they sat, shooting the breeze about nothing at all, huddling closer at the cold lashes of wind even in California. Ryan even had to pull out an afghan he stowed in the glove compartment during the coldest part of the night and wrap them both in it. They shivered like that; buffeted the wind with their jokes and exasperated sighs, until dawn broke and the gentle rays of the morning sun spilled across the grey city blocks, painting the world with warmth. 

If they concentrated hard enough, they could hear the joyous sounds of families waking up, children shouting about their presents and at the promise of an enjoyable day. There was just something very special about Christmas after all.

“Merry Christmas, Ryan.”

“Merry Christmas, Shane.”

If they held their hands as they met the light of a new day together, well, no one had to know except them.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> And Merry Christmas!


End file.
